


The Pied Piper Cometh

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2537060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No d'Art in distress or whumpage but plenty of angst. D'Artagnan + a flute = Trouble with a capital T (grins).</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pied Piper Cometh

Halfway back to his home in Pantin, Remy Petit changed his mind about returning just yet. He was still furious that the king refused to have an audience with him. The taxes have become unbearable and have taken their toll in the small village where he lived. Much like the rest of France.

Well he had another avenue open to him, one he had debated about using until this moment. King Louis will rue the day he did not listen to one of his citizens of France.

++++

*Two months later, Captain Treville’s office*

“How many does that make now?” Treville was weary of the news he knew was coming. The children of Paris and other outlying areas have been disappearing left and right. He had sent many patrols out only to have them return with the same story. One of which he was positive he was going to hear now.

“A little brother and sister, ages seven and eight from Courbevoie, can be added to the number of missing children.” Aramis felt disappointed their trip did not have a better outcome than this.

“And a ten year old boy from Neuilly-sur-Seine,” d’Artagnan added as sadness filled him.

“Gentlemen,” Treville’s normally steely gaze lacked fire as he looked at each of his soldiers. “I am at a complete loss. Suggestions?” he held out a hand. “Anyone? Speak up if you do.”

The four Musketeers glanced at one another. Each man wore nearly identical expressions of despair.

“Well then for now let's table this for later as something equally as important has come to my attention,” Treville picked up a report from his desk and waved it in the air. “I’ve had word coming in from other cities and villages about a rash of robberies that have been taking place recently.”

“How many are you talking about, sir?” Athos’s face was nearly hidden by his hat.

“They’re too numerous to mention at this juncture,” Treville sighed. “The regiment is spread pretty thin as it is due to our spending time on the missing children.” He ran a hand down his worn face. “I want you four to see what the deuce is going on!”

“We’re right on it,” Porthos’s gravilly voice spoke for them all.

++++

Hat in hand, Aramis played with the rim. “You know on the subject of those children,” he glanced at his three friends, “on the plus side there have been no bodies discovered.”

“That we know of,” Athos added grimly.

“Er yes, there’s that,” Aramis placed his hat back on. “I was thinking the children weren’t just taken. I believe they were lured away.”

“What makes you say that?” d’Artagnan asked.

“From the reports I have been reading all of those children were last seen when they were sent to bed, inside their own homes where they should have been safe. Not playing outside where someone could grab them at any moment.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Porthos asked. “I’m sure if someone stole into their homes to kidnap the youngin’s there would be signs of a break in. And none of the parents noticed anything wrong.”

Thinking over what Aramis suggested it made sense to d’Artagnan. He glanced at Athos to see what he thought but his mentor remained silent on the issue.

“It’s just a feeling I’ve got,” Aramis muttered and threw up his hands in defeat. “It was just a thought.”

“Could have some merit to it,” Athos decided to keep that in mind when they had exhausted all other avenues. “But don’t any of you think it rather peculiar that suddenly we have a rash of robberies taking place on the heels of those lost children?” Athos’s one eyebrow quirked.

“Something amusing, d’Artagnan?” Aramis noticed a small smile playing about the boy’s lips.

“It just reminded me of a story I was told when a little boy,” d’Artagnan smiled sheepishy. “The Pied Piper of Hamelin.”

“You’re still a little one,” Porthos winked at the youngster. His comment made all the men laugh and had d’Artagnan blushing like a girl.

“I do believe I remember that story,” Athos acknowledged with a smirk. “The rat catcher extraordinaire. But instead he stole young innocents.”

“Have to admit that there are similarities,” d’Artagnan grinned.

“Stranger things have happened,” Porthos offered seriously and saw Aramis frown at him.

“They have?’ Aramis glanced at d’Artagnan who stood beside his massive friend trying his best not to be seen. “What are you doing back there, lad?”

“The boy’s laughin’,” Porthos barked.

“Gentlemen, let’s get back on track,” Athos gave each of his friends a reproachful look.

“Why don’t Porthos and I check on the robberies while you and d’Artagnan check on those missing children,” Aramis suggested as he gave Athos a merry look.

“Treville sounded like he wanted all of us to concentrate on just the robberies for now.” Athos noticed Aramis roll his eyes.

“Perhaps the two incidents are entwined,” Aramis tipped his hat to Athos and grabbed Porthos by the arm to lead him away before he ended up in a long argument with Athos over the matter.

“Uh,” d’Artagnan was taken aback that Aramis didn’t even wait for Athos to agree before departing. “Guess that leaves us to follow up on those children.” Hearing Athos’s grunt did not fill d’Artagnan with good feelings. But they both went to the stables to retrieve their horses.

++++

*Hours later on the streets of Vanves*

“All the places we’ve covered so far, the stories have all remained the same from the parents of the missing,” d’Artagnan reminded Athos as they headed back home.

“It is puzzling,” Athos admitted reluctantly. He hated puzzles. “Perhaps when we exchange our findings with that of our brothers we may finally catch a break.”

++++

*Woods outside of Pantin*

Remy Petit continued to play his flute to the bevy of children he had collected in his travels, placing them within a hidden campsite from prying eyes. Yes, he was of French descent but Gypsy blood had been handed down to him as well and ran dark in his veins, along with a special ability to infuse any musical instrument with his powers of persuasion. Remy's chosen instrument was his unique flute, which when one listened to it would think perhaps it was broken as no sound could be heard flowing from it. Ah, but to those young enough its magical enthrallment was dangerous.

If the king wouldn’t reduce the taxes then Louis would indeed pay the piper in other ways. Remy would rob France blind until the citizens of France revolted against their weak king. For he knew as surely as he had breath in his body that those damnable taxes would grow ever higher until France ran red with blood.

He looked inside his chest full of spoils that the children had been bringing in and Remy smiled with pleasure. Sitting around the small campfire, staring into the flames, a whim occurred to him. Remy would take a trip to Paris to see how the king’s been dealing with the chaos he’s created thus far. Yes, he would do just that after giving the children their orders tomorrow. This could be fun.

++++

*The Sea Gull Tavern on the streets of Paris*

All four men were gathered around the table relaxing with a table full of food and wine to fill their empty stomachs. After finishing their dinner they discussed what each had discovered so far.

“Well?” Athos only needed one word to convey his feelings as he glanced at the uncomfortable expressions that passed over Aramis and Porthos.

“Not much to tell,” Porthos took a sip of wine as he watched Aramis sit back in his chair relaxing.

“There was something,” Aramis started to say and caught Porthos’s curious face. “Yes I didn’t share this with you because I wasn’t sure,” he shrugged. “I’m still not but thought I’d throw this out there.”

“Spit it out!” Athos ordered slamming his nearly empty glass on the table making the remaining wine slosh over the rim.

“All right,” Aramis snapped back,” no need to get surly about it!”

“Oh please you two,” d’Artagnan groaned softly, hearing Porthos chuckle beside him. 

Holding his finger in the air, Aramis stabbed the boy with a look. “I swear if you tell us to *get a room* I’ll tan your behind so hard...”

“Ah!” Porthos growled in warning. “You have to go through me first to get to the lad.”

Banging his head on the table, d’Artagnan felt his head being pulled up by his long hair. “Ow!” He batted the hand away turning to scowl at Athos.

“It’s bad enough I have to put up with this childish behavior,” Athos spoke low, “but you do not need to give yourself an injury to the head,” clearly Athos was irritated with everyone's behavior and had put up enough with this foolishness when there were more serious matters at play.

Ducking his head shyly, d’Artagnan smiled and said not another word.

“If I may continue,” Aramis glared at all of them. “When Porthos and I were in Gentilly, two merchants talked with me sharing their stories. They said that the robberies were carried out by children.”

“So they saw them?” D’Artagnan started to wonder if his quip earlier about the Pied Piper held truth after all.”

++++

*Next day, late afternoon*

Walking around the streets of Paris, Remy heard whisperings of the unsolved lost children and the series of robberies being committed. He felt nothing but satisfaction and hoped it was giving King Louis sleepless nights.

As he continued his stroll down the city streets, Remy spotted several Musketeers exiting one of the establishments. Catching his eye was one in particular. The young boy seemed to be of Gascon heritage judging by his coloring and then he was struck by a cunning idea. It would be a coup of immense proportions to take one of the king’s Musketeers out from under Louis's aristocratic nose. 

This was one prize he would entice away if the boy’s soul was innocent enough to hear the call of his flute. For it was only the pure of heart that could hear his instrument’s silent call. Yes, it would be a gamble but one he was willing to take. The more he thought on it the more he liked the idea and what a sweet moment it would be for him.

++++

*Just outside the Musketeer garrison*

Standing in a secluded area, Remy pulled out his flute and his fingers began to dance as he played his silent tune. It was past midnight so he wasn’t worried at being seen, feeling safe enough in the shadows. His music should seek out only the young Musketeer as he continued his melody.

++++

*Musketeer barracks*

D’Artagnan instantly sat up in bed looking around the room. He didn’t know what had awakened him and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. But something had brought him out of a sound sleep. Figuring it must have been a bad dream that did it, d’Artagnan pounded on his pillow and laid his head back down. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t go back to sleep and that’s when he heard it. Music so soft and sweet that it lulled his senses. 

Sitting back up, d’Artagnan could see that none of his other Musketeer brothers had heard it, then again they could probably sleep through a campaign if need be. Shaking his head, he could feel his mind becoming fuzzier and his head heavier as he succumbed to the lovely music.

++++

*Next morning, Treville’s office*

“Well, where’s d’Artagnan this time?” Captain Treville studied the three faces before him sternly.

“He wasn’t in the barracks,” Porthos offered, glancing over at Athos’s face from what he could see of it hidden under the man’s hat.

“I asked Serge and he told me that d’Artagnan never showed up for breakfast,” Aramis chewed on his lip in concern.

“D’Artagnan wasn’t even at the stables.” Athos felt his stomach roll. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

“You don’t think?” Porthos question was cut off by the captain’s words.

“Gentlemen, more children went missing last night.” Treville felt at his wits end over this terrible situation. He hadn’t slept well since this all began. Worry weighed heavy on him and it showed.

“And now d’Artagnan’s gone as well,” Athos growled. “This is not a coincidence.”

“If this person was here last night he or she couldn’t have gone far,” Aramis surmised and looked at his other friends. “We shouldn’t waste anymore time.”

“I agree,” Treville nodded in approval. “Go! Find d’Artagnan and perhaps you’ll find the other missing children as well.”

++++

*Late evening*

Remy couldn’t resist as he rode through one of the smaller villages just outside Paris. All the shops were closed now and he noted several mercantile buildings seemed like they wouldn’t mind parting with some of their wares. Free of charge to himself of course. So he found a nice spot to hide his wagon that held his recent captives. After unlatching the lock he found a tree stump to sit on and began to play his silent tune again as he watched the children file out, along with the young Musketeer.

All of the youngsters gathered round him. The Musketeer stood near his shoulder as if he were awaiting orders from his captain. Remy knew he had them in his complete control as he gave them their orders. Watching them enter the village, his fingers continued their dance on the flute.

++++

“Ya know we could be chasin’ our own tails here,” Porthos protested at the way they’ve been going about tracking the children and d’Artagnan.

“I disagree,” Athos was extremely worried over their young one.

“Remember when d’Artagnan mentioned that story about the Piper,” Aramis remarked quietly. “As you know the Piper’s flute only worked on little children, usually because they are the most vulnerable and innocent.”

“But Dart’s not a child,” Porthos announced gruffly.

“True, but he’s barely nineteen years of age,” Aramis reminded his large friend.

“He ain’t an innocent,” Porthos’s voice roughened as his concern grew for their boy.

“Not in the sense you mean,” Athos said. “But the lad has a kindness of spirit. One could even say d’Artagnan has a pure heart.”

“Mon dieu!” Aramis slapped his forehead. “We’ve been blind as well as stupid!”

“Speak for yourself,” Porthos snapped, “I ain’t the dumb one here!”.

“The person or persons behind all of this has to be using something to bind the children so that they do their bidding without question," Aramis was starting to get excited because he knew his theory was correct.

“Grabbing a Musketeer was a huge error and the beginning of the end for whomever is responsible.” Athos wanted to throttle someone at this point for wrecking all this havoc.

“There’s our first village up ahead,” Porthos grunted. “Let’s see if anything’s off.”

They rode into the sleepy village and dismounted near a local inn. Tying their horses to a post they took up key positions where they could observe any unusual activity coming or going. Even though it was quite dark, there was a full moon lighting the night sky giving them a clear view of the village. So it wasn’t long when the Musketeers were shortly rewarded for their efforts.

Even though they had prepared themselves the Musketeers were still startled when they saw the thieves at work. Several children came out of a dry goods store carrying boxes or bags filled with items. A few minutes later they watched as a little girl came out of a dress shop carrying an armful of clothes. While yet a small boy carefully left the town’s lone stable pulling a small wagon filled from the livery.

The biggest surprise of all was to see d’Artagnan emerge from the local bank carrying what appeared to be a huge sack in his hands. The three inseparables didn’t have to be told what it contained.

Athos quickly gathered his comrades together. “Seems Aramis and d’Artagnan’s theories proved to hold truth in them. I’ll get our youngster and you two collect the rest.”

Stealthily approaching d’Artagnan, Athos appeared in front of the boy. “D’Artagnan, may I ask why you are robbing a bank in the middle of the night?” he asked casually as if it were an everyday occurrence to find the young Musketeer stealing. He knew it was an obviously stupid question as well but wanted to gauge the youngster’s reaction… of which there wasn’t much of. All d’Artagnan did was to stare past Athos’s shoulder blankly, never uttering a sound.

Passing his hand in front of d’Artagnan’s face and getting no response whatsoever, Athos realized their young one was under some type of hypnotic command as were the other children.

So he did the only thing he could think of and that was to step aside, let the boy continue on his way and simply follow d’Artagnan. He signaled for Porthos and Aramis to bring the other children along as well. So it was a silent little band that trailed behind d’Artagnan.

++++

*Back at Petit’s campsite*

It wasn’t a very long walk from the village to where Remy Petit waited while playing his flute. Hearing the snap of twigs, he stopped his silent tune as his Musketeer arrived carrying a heavy sack filled with money. “Ah, my friend,” Remy smiled with pleasure, “come here and give me your take of the evening.”

Just like a sleepwalker, d’Artagnan slowly joined Remy’s side and dropped the sack at the man’s feet. “To think the king hasn’t the slightest idea what’s been happening,” he laughed heartily. In his greed the older man didn’t seem to realize that the other children weren’t making an appearance yet.

“Let me have a piece of em’,” Porthos growled menacingly. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he glared back at Athos.

“D’Artagnan is still with him. We will not risk his life needlessly,” Athos warned him. “Aramis stay behind with the children,” he ordered. When the other man looked like he was about to protest, Athos pulled Aramis close. “Someone has to stay with them. So you’re elected and that’s the end of it,” he hissed.

Not enjoying being left behind, Aramis understood the order he just didn’t have to like it.

Porthos noticed how tired looking d’Artagnan seemed to be and prayed there would be no ill effects from whatever had been done to him or the children.

Finally Remy began to wonder why it was taking the other children so long to return to him. Picking up his flute his fingers once more danced over his instrument, calling out to the children in the village. Still when he did not see any of them Remy worried for the first time since he began all this.

Staring at the young Musketeer standing so silently by his side, Remy figured that something must have prevented the others from coming back. Not wanting to end up dangling from a hangman’s noose, he decided to cut his losses and leave with this Musketeer instead.

Watching as the man started to put out the campfire, Porthos became unsettled. “Athos, he’s gettin’ ready to leave.” He started to jump out of his hiding place to put a stop to it but was restrained by Athos’s hard grip on his arm.

“Non, let me,” Athos’s face was set in stone. Striding out from the brush, hand drawing out his sword, Athos appeared behind the culprit responsible for all this heartache. “Give me a reason... just one... to run you through and I will gladly end your life.”

Turning around, Remy was stunned that he had been caught unawares. He could see by what the man wore that he was a Musketeer. “I tripped myself up by taking one of your brothers-in-arms didn’t I?”

“Stupidity comes in many forms, Monsieur,” Athos responded wryly. “Porthos!” he called out. “You may place this man under arrest before I forget I am a gentleman and do him an injury anyway.” While he waited for Porthos to do the honors, Athos spied the flute tucked in the man’s belt and removed it.

When Remy saw the massive, dark-skinned Musketeer looming over him he instantly held out his hands to be tied.

“How’s our boy doin’?” As Porthos secured their prisoner his heart dropped as he glanced at d’Artagnan. He saw no life in the lad at all.

“By the way,” Athos snapped out, “what name do you go by?”

“Remy Petit.”

“Well then, Monsieur Petit, bring d’Artagnan out of his trance immediately!” Athos demanded holding the tip of his sword at the man’s throat.

“Then I will need my hands unbound to do that,” Remy replied. “The magic is in my flute.”

“I don’t trust em’,” Porthos growled.

“Neither do I, but we have to believe what he says,” Athos admitted, nodding his head for his friend to untie the man.

Once free, Remy held out his hand and waited until Athos slapped his flute back into his open palm.

Playing a few light notes, Remy watched the younger Musketeer’s posture relax as the boy’s eyes blinked, opening slowly as he became aware of his surroundings.

“The others?” Athos raised a brow at Petit.

“Should come out of it at the same time now.”

“Athos... Porthos... what’s going on?” d’Artagnan asked. Looking around him, d’Artagnan didn’t recognize where he was.

Going over to their youngest, Athos wrapped d’Artagnan in a warm embrace. He could tell that clearly the boy had no idea of what had taken place since he disappeared from the garrison. Placing a loving hand on one side of d’Artagnan’s face, Athos patted it gently. “Long tale, my boy,” Athos shot a look at Porthos.

“Lad, the first round of drinks will be on me tomorrow night,” Porthos grinned as he retied Petit’s hands. “Athos what about all those other missing kids from the other towns. The ones we got were only a handful.”

“Yes, Petit, what about them?” Athos pinned the man with a deadly glare.

“They’re safe. I’ll take you to them and then release the enchantment as I just did now.”

“Let’s get back to Aramis,” Porthos suggested as he pushed Petit ahead of him.

As they left the camp, poor d’Artagnan was very bewildered. “What am I doing outside? I was asleep in the barracks last time I knew.” Running a hand through his hair he noticed the haggard faces of his two comrades. “If Aramis looks half as bad as you two this must be quite a story.” Feeling Athos hand on his shoulder, d’Artagnan saw the concerned look his mentor gave him.

“You don’t know the half of it, d’Artagnan,” Athos’s smiled grimly, shaking his head.

As they met up with Aramis the man was busy calming down hysterical children. Since they had become their normal selves they were quite frightened. It took awhile before Aramis was able to greet d’Artagnan properly with a strong hug and clap to the boy’s back. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“I’m happy to be seen but wish I understood what happened to me,” d’Artagnan said tiredly. Noticing the children for the first time, his mouth opened and closed in astonishment as he glanced over at Athos, a question forming on his lips.

Not wanting to get involved in long explanations until they were back on the road, Athos pointed to Roger. “D’Artagnan, you ride with me and I will try to make sense of this for you.”

As d’Artagnan passed by Porthos he saw a flute sticking out of the man’s weapon’s belt. Scratching his head something nagged at him as he stared at the man his friend’s arrested. Once more d’Artagnan focused on the flute and slid his glance to the prisoner. His eyes widened as his eyes sought out Athos’s. “Oh don’t tell me,” he moaned.

“Eh, lad?” Porthos frowned, worried that the boy was hurt.

“Mon dieu!” d’Artagnan exclaimed in shock as sudden realization hit him full force. “The story of the Pied Piper!" He looked to Athos for confirmation and when he saw his mentor's nod and that familiar gleam in his blue eyes, d'Artagnan knew it to be true.

“You’ll never look at a flute in the same manner again,” Aramis laughed as he finished settling the last of the children in a wagon he borrowed from the village stable. “I can’t wait to see how Captain Treville writes up this report.”

“And I just want to go home and crawl into bed,” d’Artagnan admitted as he sat in front of Athos on Roger. He only hoped he hadn't done anything stupid while under the influence of that damn flute! For he knew his brothers would tease him mercilessly for ages over it.

“Then we’ll sing you to sleep with a sweet lullaby,” Porthos’s gruff voice jested with the youngster, “or a flute.” 

“Don’t do me any favors,” d’Artagnan retorted as he leaned back against Athos, getting comfortable. Hearing his mentor’s soft huff of laughter in his ear, d’Artagnan knew his wellbeing would always be kept in their safe hands.


End file.
